


A Hundred Years Since We’ve Met

by oceans_and_lovers



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't overthink the reincarnation aspect, Established Relationship, F/M, They live and die and look the same and remember each life, Though hopeful might be more appropriate, Why did I make this so tragic! They deserve only happiness!, angst angst angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22642261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceans_and_lovers/pseuds/oceans_and_lovers
Summary: "Jon looked younger, and yet still looked the same as he always had, dark colours and hair tied back so it didn’t knot in the wind.The frown lines creasing his forehead though, those were new. They hadn’t been there, when they’d last seen one another. This is another life for the both of us."-For hundreds of years, Jon and Sansa have lived and died and always found one another. But in this lifetime, Sansa hasn't wanted to see him, too hurt and bruised by their last life together. But Jon finds her in Paris and they finally talk about the war...
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 18
Kudos: 87
Collections: JonsaValentine2020





	A Hundred Years Since We’ve Met

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I came up with for the Jonsa Valentine Event and the theme "Words From The Heart" <3

I swear I only want to hear about you, to know what you’ve been doing. It’s a hundred years since we’ve met - it may be another hundred years before we meet again.

\- Edith Wharton, _The Age of Innocence_

And I’d choose you; in a hundred different lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.

\- Kiersten White

✨

_Paris, 1971_

“How did you find me this time?”

As she paused by one of the tables outside of a small café, hands rigid by her side, Sansa took a moment to just look at him.

Jon looked younger, and yet still looked the same as he always had, dark colours and hair tied back so it didn’t knot in the wind.

The frown lines creasing his forehead though, those were new. They hadn’t been there, when they’d last seen one another. _This is another_ _life for the both of us._

“Research,” he said, and he was examining her too, staring at her with an intense, level gaze, as if he could never look at her enough. “Just as I always have.” 

In any other lifetime, she would have wondered why it had taken him so long to find her, but now, Sansa was too overcome to think of anything but of how much she’d missed him, and how his voice pulled at her heartstrings. 

“Why?” Sansa took a deep breath, and tried to keep her face blank, gripping the chair instead.

It hadn’t been so long since she’d seen him. Only… thirty two years...

Part of Sansa still didn’t want to see him, still wanted to avoid the pain it would no doubt cause.

They’d been reunited for only a moment and already Sansa couldn’t ignore the ache in her chest, or the way her heart fluttered whenever her eyes met his.

She clutched the chair tighter as she felt the string that tied them together trying to reel her in.

“Just to talk, Sansa,” Jon said, ignoring the strangers passing their table as all of his scorching attention was on her. He seemed so calm, so unaffected, and a flicker of resentment joined the storm of emotions within her.

“You could have written a longer letter, or called. Have you not heard of telephones yet?” Sansa bit out, straightening her spine. The urge to flee was rising in her as her thoughts grew more and more jumbled, but that would be rude - she had come to sit and talk with him, hadn’t she, just as he’d asked in the note he’d sent. 

And a part of her did want to hear his voice again, even if it was just for a little while.

“Sit down,” Jon said lowly, “Please.”

“Jon…”

Sansa hardly said it, but she knew that the way her lips shaped his name was so familiar to him that a whisper, less than a whisper, was enough.

“I swear I only want to hear about you. To know what you’ve been doing.” A moment passed, then he bowed his head, and said, “It’s been... awhile.”

“You know why I can’t sit with you.” Seeing him like this, hearing his voice, it made her want to crumple and fall to her knees, but she couldn’t, not yet.

“ _Sansa._ Please.”

Sighing, Sansa sat down, sweeping in her skirt so passers-by wouldn’t step on it, and smoothing down the fabric so as to avoid his gaze.

“What do you do in Paris?”

Jon’s voice wavered slightly as he spoke. _Nerves?_ But he’d been the one to seek her out.

Addressing the lemon pattern of her skirt, Sansa said with an edge of coldness, “I run a second-hand bookshop.”

“You always wanted to have a chance at doing that,” Jon replied, the old fondness slipping into his words once again and it would be so easy to bask in it, let it wrap around her like a blanket. _Or his arms_ , a rogue voice added.

“Reincarnation gives people lots of chances.”

A nudge at her knees had Sansa glancing up and Jon’s eyes caught her. His leg pressed more firmly against hers and Sansa was helpless against it, and even, for a moment, revelled in it.

“I had to go.”

Sansa shifted to move her leg away from his, and said, “That’s not true.”

“I’d had to sign up, it was conscription,” Jon said, earnest yet blunt.

It burned, that he didn’t understand, and Sansa could feel her blood start to simmer.

“You said that in 1916, remember,” she hissed, so no one else would hear, “And then promised me you’d live. You _swore it to me._ ”

Her words must have cut him as Jon winced. “I know but - ”

“And you said you’d see me again, when I finally found you, and then you left and _didn’t come home_.”

“I had no choice, Sansa, _please._ ” 

The agony in his words was nothing though. Not to how it had felt.

_The platform was crowded, men in uniform swarmed by loved ones desperate to steal one last kiss before the train left, and it was so similar to the last war that Sansa felt faint._

_The train was due to leave at ten, and the minutes were falling away as Sansa pushed her way through the sea of bodies, sharp elbows jabbing any who threatened to block her way._

_She wasn’t going to make it. Where was he?_

_Even on her tiptoes, Sansa couldn’t see him and her heart was going to beat out of her chest. This couldn’t be happening again._

_He’d promised to live. He’d promised._

_“Sansa!”_

_Whipping round, there he was, pack slung on his back, eyes wide as she started to run towards him._

_All Sansa could do was throw herself at him, knowing he would catch her, and when he did, she said, “Stay, Jon. Stay with me.”_

_“Sansa, I -”_

_“You promised me, Jon Snow,” Sansa said, back on her feet, jabbing his chest with her finger as the tears started to build, “Don’t go, not again.”_

_His eyes were bleary but Sansa could see his face hardening into stone, and she began to shake._

_“I will see you again,” Jon said, reaching out with gentle hands to catch the tears on her cheeks, “In this life. In a year or two.”_

_And Sansa wanted to scream but he was already being called away by the men behind him as the train’s whistle blew and it was almost ten._

_He kissed her. And he left her breaking apart._

“You said you’d see me again in that life,” Sansa whispered as all of her boiling anger faded as fast as it had sparked to life, leaving her with just her shaking hands.

“You think I didn’t want to? That I didn’t want to find you every day I was over there?”

They were quiet then, as the weight of it all settled onto Sansa’s shoulders, trying to force her into the earth, and she grasped the edge of the table, the metal sharp and cold.

Jon slid his open hand across the table, and said quietly, “What can I do, Sansa?”

“What?”

Leaning forwards, Jon repeated himself - “What can I do to make this right?”

It was too much and for a moment, Sansa closed her eyes, listening to those around them instead, feeling the sun heat her skin. Jon didn’t leave or disappear and Sansa knew that if she didn’t reply they would sit there, just the two of them, silently for the rest of this lifetime.

Still, she said, “I don’t know, I - I can’t lose you like that, again.”

“You won’t.”

Sansa almost scoffed. “How can you say that?” 

“Because I won’t fight their battles anymore,” Jon said, this time reaching for her hands and pulling them towards him, encasing them both between his own, “I will choose you. Over anything else.”

How many times had he said that to her, had shown her that he’d choose her over anyone, everyone?

But...

“How can I trust what you say now?” The ice had returned to her voice, but she could feel herself thawing, now they were reunited and she could feel his skin against hers.

It crossed her mind that his skin was softer in this life, less worn. 

Jon squeezed her hands and said, “I can show you. For the rest of our lives.”

“Every one of them?” With anyone else, the open hope in her words would be embarrassing, but her and Jon were long past that.

“For as many as we can get.”

Sansa hesitated then, biting her lip and staring at their joined hands.

She’d spent years holding herself back from the urge to find him, ignoring all thoughts of him, burning away any memories that would strike her as the weeks and months went by. All to avoid that agony again, to be released from it.

Yet, as she sat there with him, Sansa knew that it hadn’t worked. She’d done well at pretending it had, at smoothing over the cracks, but the ache had remained.

_If you don’t let him in, what then?_

She’d be alone again, and so would he. 

Lifting their hands up, Sansa pressed her lips to his knuckles, then said what he’d said to her so long ago.

“Where will we go?”

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the angst in this and that there are no mentions of Valentine's Day. Also sorry for this in general, not my best writing but you know, it can just be practise.


End file.
